


Chase the Light

by Mallior



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friday is a good bro, Get Together, M/M, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Bucky Barnes, Slow Burn, Swearing, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, not team Cap friendly, protective winter soldier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-02-04 07:23:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12765996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mallior/pseuds/Mallior
Summary: Collected oneshots and drabbles featuring Bucky Barnes & Tony Stark. And of course the Winter Soldier.Rating may change, see tags and chapter notes for additional warnings.





	1. stray

**Author's Note:**

> Recommended music: [Lucas King - Hurt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rFUPIuHayRo) // [Shiro Sagisu - Going Home](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1uLPjiITqqY)
> 
> This is NOT what I wanted to write but Barnes and the Soldier hijacked it. Enjoy?

Barnes slowly made his way around the compound, trying to avoid the ones who were still awake. To be honest, there weren’t a lot of people to start with… Banner arrived just a few days before, Rhodes was busy with official Avengers business, the Parker kid didn’t live here, only came to visit Stark. And Stark… Unless it was session time with the BARF tech, the man stayed away from everyone.

 

He retreated back into his lab, in the far corner of the building’s left wing. If Barnes was honest, he didn’t try to seek out the man’s company, he made his opinion on Barnes crystal clear even before Siberia. Yet he allowed him into the compound, allowed him to use his tech, helped him to heal from 70 years of brainwashing and torture. Barnes was aware of the pain he caused, the damage he done to Stark’s life by killing his family. It made the man’s offer to help even more baffling.

 

He heard of the thoughts Steve and his teammates about Stark, as they painted him as a reckless, selfish, arrogant fool, who only cared about his own image, always trying to salvage his questionable fame.

 

In the last 6 months he lived in the compound, he only saw a tired, betrayed man, not the loud, flighty showman he expected. What made the whole deal even more bitter, knowing Steve threw Stark’s friendship and support back into the man’s face to chase an amnesiac killer, hid information about his parent’s death while demanding transparency and honesty.

  


He reached the back of the west wing and found Banner sitting in the small zen garden, near a bamboo torch, holding a steaming cup of something. His face was tired, dark half-moons under his eyes. Barnes glanced at the watch on his wrist, the softly glowing numbers telling him it was past over 2 AM.

 

Banner kept normal human sleep cycle, trying to give some structure to his life. Hulk was more manageable when his smaller alter ego lived in a safe place. Yet he found the scientist in the middle of the night drinking white tea - the scent reached him as he neared tea garden -, alone.

 

Barnes made sure to step on some pebbles, making noise, not wanting to end up as a splatter, because he startled Banner into the Hulk. The scientist turned his head with a sigh, his expression looked even more tired and Barnes would have sworn, he saw green in those dark eyes. The Soldier moved in the dark corner of his mind, sensing his uneasiness.

 

“What’s wrong?” Barnes asked.

 

“What isn’t?” Banner asked back, his voice sharp. “Sorry, I’m just tired and angry. Shouldn’t take it out on you.” with another sigh, he lifted the cup and took a small sip from it. Barnes stayed at the perimeter of the garden, carefully keeping his distance.

 

The scientist was silent for a few moments, nursing his teacup, then he got up from the small wooden bench.   
“Would you like some tea?” he asked Barnes. “It helps with the stress and sleep.”

 

Barnes hesitated for a heartbeat, then he nodded. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept more than a few hours without nightmares, the psychiatrist whom Stark consulted from time to time, prescribed sleeping aids but there was no way he would take them. If he went to sleep he wanted to be sure to wake up, preferably not another 70 years in the future…

 

He followed Banner back into the building and to the left wing’s communal kitchen. Perched upon the kitchen counter, out of way, but in the best vantage point, he just watched as the man made tea. Heating water, carefully measuring delicate tea leaves into a mug, picking a leaf from the small plant on the windowsill. After a few minutes he put the mug down next to Barnes. His face and shoulders lost some of its tension.

 

“I’m worried about Tony.” he murmured into the silence. “He doesn’t eat normally, I can tell he lost weight. Also I would bet he didn’t sleep in the last 3 days. He will crash and burn, but when I mentioned he got defensive and now I’m _banned_ from the lab.”

 

Barnes hummed in reply, warming his hand around the mug, nose over the tea, inhaling the scent of it. The Soldier grumbled something in the back of his head, but settled down, but not before prompting him to drink the tea. _Need resting._

 

The tea was light, almost flowery and just barely sweet. He could feel his muscles loosen a little. As he looked up, he found Banner smiling at him.   
“I’m glad you like it.” the man hid a yawn behind his hand. “Sorry, but I need some sleep. See you in the morning and thank you for listening.”

____

 

Barnes woke up slowly. It was a strange sensation, not snapping into wakefulness. He couldn’t remember if he dreamt anything. Probably not, because the pillow under his head was intact, no damage to anything he could see from the bed. Huh...

 

With a yawn he sat up and kicked off the blanket. How long he slept? He picked up the watch from the nightstand and almost dropped it when the numbers registered. It was almost 11 AM. He slept almost 9 hours! The Soldier lazily poked at him, correcting: _7 hours_. Still, it was the longest sleep he got, not counting the cryo tank.

 

After he got dressed, his legs brought him to the communal kitchen, hoping to run into Banner. That tea was a brilliant idea, he needed to say thank you to the man… But he only found Stark in there.

 

The man looked dishevelled, dark locks tangled, grease on the faded t-shirt and on the ratty jeans, creases on the right side of his face. As Barnes stepped into the kitchen the man turned to look at him, eyes narrowing.

 

“You!” he pointed at Barnes. “What the hell was in that tea? Did you tranq me? Did Bruce put you up to knock me out?” he _growled_ at him, arms crossing in front of his chest. Barnes just stared at him.

 

“What?”

 

“Last night. You- you don’t remember, do you? You came to the workshop with a mug of tea and death glared me into drinking it. I fell asleep and woke up around 9 in the morning.” Stark answered.

 

The Soldier offered the memory of making the tea, replicating Banner’s steps, wanting to help both scientists. Stark deserved sleep more and Bucky finally was out cold, letting him breath a little. The body could function on little sleep, so using a little time to make the drink and glare the engineer into submission was worth it.

 

Barnes sighed a little.

 

“Sorry about that. It was the Soldier. The tea helped us, so he thought it could help you too.”

 

Stark blinked at him, confusion in those dark eyes. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but didn’t say a word. The Soldier sent an amusing thought about Stark looking like a fish and it take some effort not to grin at the idea.

 

Barnes carefully started gathering things for breakfast, minding the distance between himself and the engineer, who now looked lost in thought. He diced the ham and a few slices of cheese for the scrambled egg, while the oil heated. A glance at Stark confirmed the man now sat at the farthest side of the kitchen island, mug of coffee in his hand.

  


As he put the plate down, Stark’s head snapped up, eyes wide.

 

“Scrambled eggs with ham and cheese. Eat, while it’s warm.” then he turned to make his own plate, ignoring Stark’s spluttering in the background.

 

“What am I? A stray dog? I can feed myself just fine!” the engineer almost slammed his mug down in indignation.

 

“Well, you almost skinny like one, so I’m not sure, about feeding yourself _fine_ . Maybe if there is food in front of you, maybe you’ll eat.” Barnes answered. The Soldier murmured about being in fighting form, the механик should be healthy because he was _important_ for them. Barnes ignored him.

  


The rest of the breakfast - almost lunch - was silent, only the clinking of utensils broke it. Despite his annoyance, the engineer cleared his plate and with a grumbled thank you, he beat a hasty retreat from the kitchen. Barnes just shook his head and cleared away the dishes.

 

 _Механик is stubborn, should take a better care of himself,_ the Soldier hummed. _He is strong and smart, but not always. We’ll keep an eye on him, да?_

 

Barnes heaved a sigh in agreement, of course they’ll keep an eye on him. There was a lot more to Tony Stark, than he thought at first. Maybe, if they were careful and persistent, the dark circles under the man’s eyes would fade in time. Any maybe… maybe they would hear him laugh and see him smile, finally.


	2. no silver, no gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“What’s with the weapons fair? Which not-so-small country you want to invade?” Tony asked with a small nod to the arsenal._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended music: [Jen Titus - O Death](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ScP5Nv-EhZI)
> 
> Short chapter, but the music started and my muse was like "OMG? DO IIIII~T!!!". Have some Winter Soldier.

Tony wasn’t sure why he left the workshop. He had coffee and food in there, along with water and a small fridge filled with smoothie ingredients. On his way to the communal kitchen, he passed through the living room and stopped as soon as he stepped in. 

 

In front of the large, green couch, sat Barnes with an impressive weapon arsenal laid on the floor. Originally, they were in the training arena’s armory, but now, they decorated Tony’s floor in all their gleaming gunmetal glory. Barnes methodically assembled a handgun, picked up a soft looking checkered rag - which looked suspiciously familiar - and started cleaning.

 

The whole scene was already unnerving, one of the most deadliest man on this mudball, surrounded with weapons, but it quickly escalated as he started humming. It took a few heartbeats for Tony to recognize the song. 

 

_ “No wealth, no ruin, no silver, no gold _

_ Nothing satisfies me but your soul” _

 

Logically, he knew, Barnes and his roommate had no intention to kill everyone in the compound... Unless someone, somehow undone the progress of the BARF sessions and used the trigger words. But Friday didn’t alerted intruders or a hacking attempt. Tony oh so carefully fished his phone out of his jeans pocket and did a quick system check. No sign of hacked Friday.

 

As he looked up from phone, he found Barnes looking at him. Or not-Barnes. The cold, calculating look always made him sweat a little, but he only met it a few times, mostly in sessions, and once with the tea. The Soldier stopped humming, his hands stilled, the gun in half-assembly now.

 

“What’s with the weapons fair? Which not-so-small country you want to invade?” Tony asked with a small nod to the arsenal.

 

“Invading countries is exhausting. The armory needs regular maintenance, in case of emergency. The residents of the compound should be more cautious.” the Soldier replied, disapproving frown on his face.

 

“We can defend ourselves just-”

 

“The doctor can, Rhodes is rarely there, and the Механик is a lot of things, but  _ fine _ isn’t one of them.” came the deadpan interruption. 

 

“Excuse you!” Tony squawked indignantly, only to be ignored.

 

“We’ll keep an eye on the perimeter and will keep up the armory maintenance. We discussed it with James, and it seemed a logical course of action. AI Friday approved and Rhodes gave us the security codes.” the Soldier sounded almost smug and resumed his cleaning, along with the humming.

 

Tony just stood there for a minute, pondering what he was called and why he had a strange feeling about the Winter Soldier working together with Barnes - who now was called James - on guarding the compound. 

 

He shook his head and continued his way to the kitchen.


	3. fundamental

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What is a cosmic ray? I have some vague memories reading some stories about cosmic ray guns and stuff like that, but I’m almost 100 percent sure those were fiction.” Barnes asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended music: [Two Steps From Hell - Science](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2NJTQzhqidk)  
> Inspired by: David Mitcham - Mandarin Fish Fury (google it guys)

It started like an almost okay day, because Tony only had almost okay days for years. He was in the workshop, fiddling the latest revision of the Stark Industries Solar Panel, head bobbing in rhythm of the blasting music, Friday blessedly muted when something dark dropped from the ceiling.

 

He almost stabbed himself in the hand with the screwdriver as he jumped in surprise, mouth opening to call an armor, Friday, Rhodey or even Bruce - from the other side of the building - but he closed his jaw with a click as the intruder straightened from his crouch on the floor. Why he was even surprised…

 

“What brings you to my humble workshop, Barnes? Friday, unmute, music 10 percent and why didn’t you warn me?” Tony asked as he slowly put the screwdriver down because it hurt like Hell, getting stabbed with it.

 

“You weren’t in danger Boss, I was under the mute command, and James asked for permission to enter. But you sadly didn’t heard his knocking and I can’t open the door without command, just in case of emergency.” Friday answered, Tony could swear she sounded way to smug for a bunch of circuitry. 

 

“So I searched for another entry, without breaking the door.” Barnes interrupted. “Friday is at no fault, she did what you told her.”

 

“Wait, wait. Did you two just gang up on me? That’s what happening right now? My own AI and a frozen relic joining forces?” Tony asked, only mild incredulity in his voice.

 

“I have questions, to be honest and dr. Banner is currently meditating, so…” Barnes looked endearingly shy for someone who could kill a SWAT team with his bare hands and get out of it without a scratch. Tony heaved a sigh.

 

“Okay, you have 5 minutes, so make it quick. What questions?” the engineer sat back to the workbench, clearing a small place on it to lean against comfortably.

 

Barnes’ mouth twitched into a miniscule smile before he magicked an itty-bitty black backpack from somewhere - he wore black as usual, making it hard to tell where the straps were and it was part of a small prototype parachute Tony designed for Barton - which now contained a STARK Tablet, a neon blue lunchbox and a thermos. And judging from the clinking, at least a pair of knife.

 

After unpacking, Barnes hopped onto the nearest workbench, which was almost empty, save from a few armor pieces. Then he carefully folded himself into a tailor seat and fired up the tablet.

 

“What is a cosmic ray? I have some vague memories reading some stories about cosmic ray guns and stuff like that, but I’m almost 100 percent sure those were fiction.” Barnes asked. 

 

Tony held back a grin when Barnes talked about things before the whole murderbot stuff, because it was a solid evidence of the BARF sessions and the professional help the man got. The not-so-great evidence was the Soldier becoming more stable and coherent in Barnes head...

 

“Did you read it somewhere?” Tony asked and Barnes nodded. “Okay, where to start… Did you read about elementary particles? Like quarks and leptons? No? Okay…Friday, give me the standard model of elementary particles, please.”

  
  


Bruce found them in the workshop, surrounded by projections about particles, equations and a few academic papers about theories beyond the standard elementary particles model. On the nearest workbench was an empty blue lunchbox, surrounded by muffin wrappers and two mugs with a thermos behind them.

 

He just stood there for a few minutes, watching Tony and James talk and swap the holo models around, Tony pointing at equations sometimes. It was good to see someone being interested in something other that the weapons the engineer made or the money he threw around. 

 

Bruce turned around and left them alone, he would survive eating dinner alone with a movie of his own choice - finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For research reasons now I have 7 wiki pages open in:  
> \- Physics  
> \- Astronomy  
> \- Neutrino astronomy  
> \- Cherenkov radiation  
> \- Neutrino  
> \- Cosmic ray  
> \- Elementary particle
> 
> All of this for a question and a few words... In my defence, I made bigger researches for less. 8D


	4. safe, warm, soft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...and they had Tony and his brilliance.   
> Tony and his slowly relaxing shoulders around them, his endless chatter about science, which they could derail with offerings of food and coffee. The Soldier hummed, promising him to keep all of this, no matter what."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended music: [Two Steps From Hell - Eternal Sorrow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=brcj-UeAVdA) // [Mass Effect 3 Soundtrack - An End Once and For All](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x5JvbD2Zc9I)

Barnes burrowed deeper into the dark blue comforter, he kept at the end of his bed, trying to disappear from the world, from existing. He only wanted to have a normal day, even in his own standards. But his careful plans crashed because of a fuckin video call.

_____

 

Friday helped him with finding a new, no-previous-master-chef-experience-needed recipe for a muffin and also helped with ordering the ingredients. Yes, he needed help with getting food, because his brain and its other occupant had weird reaction to certain tastes. Food with way too much chemicals and preservatives made them nauseous, along with anything bitter. The Soldier denied telling the reasons…

 

So, Barnes outsourced the ingredient shopping, after checking in with the Soldier. Friday sent a pop up message onto his tablet, after everything arrived and the delivery person cleared the vicinity of the kitchen. He almost skipped his way to the kitchen in glee, the Soldier grumbling contentedly in his head. Someone had to take the health of the Механик seriously, and it started with prompting him to eat more. Even he couldn’t produce muscles from nothing, genius or not.

 

The muffin was a simple one with blueberries and dusted with cinnamon and sugar. He only got to unpack the foodstuff and to hunt down a bowl, when Friday popped up a neon blue holo message, inquiring if he would like to accept Rogers’ - Steve, damn it - call. With a shrug he asked Friday to forward it.

 

A small window appeared in front of him, with Rogers fidgeting anxiously and soft voices in the background. As soon as Ro- Steve focused on his own screen, his face split into a relieved grin and started asking questions.

 

“How are you,  _ Bucky _ ?”

“What are you doing,  _ Bucky _ ?”

“What did you do today,  _ Bucky _ ?”

“Does Stark treats you right,  _ Bucky _ ?” 

“When will you come back,  _ Bucky _ ?”

 

It was the last two question which broke the metaphorical camel’s back, beside the  _ thing _ . What Rogers expected? Prison cell, torture and disdain, Barnes crying for him or what? Comparing the few months he spent in Wakanda with Rogers and his team, the Compound was almost Heaven.

 

No whining grown-ass men or that creepy woman, who pushed the Soldier’s instincts into overdrive all the fuckin time. Or the Spiderling who was almost as bad as the witch. Or Rogers with his constant  _ Bucky this, Bucky that. _ He wasn’t Bucky. They weren’t Bucky and if the doctors were correct, there was no chance in Hell, they will ever be. There was a lot of talk about neuroscience and there was a limit of what Friday or Tony could explain to him in layman terms.

 

He knew Rogers got brief updates about his progress but it looked like no one took the effort to explain them to the man. 

After snarling something about  _ not being that fuckin kid, Rogers _ and a warning about what bullshit he believed about Tony, he simply disconnected the call and left the kitchen.

 

The Soldier hissed like an angry viper in his head, throwing violent picture at him, how  _ they _ could silence the whole bunch, how  _ they _ could teach them a lesson about respect… Some part of Barnes nodded along these, but he was tired. So tired of putting up with Rogers obsession with Bucky. So tired of always failing to reach an imagined pedestal, always being less of what is expected. So tired of calming down the Soldier, who  _ always _ jumped up to defend James and now Stark.

 

Barnes closed the door of his room with a click and leaned against it for a moment. His gaze fell on the dark blue comforter, draped over the edge of the bed. He found it here, when he got the room but he only touched it once, just at the beginning and almost recoiled at its softness. It was a strange concept - softness - at that time. It didn’t hurt, it wasn’t cold or metal or electricity. He left it there.

 

Now he stepped up to his bed and picked up the comforter. It was still so soft, softer that his sheets and pillows. He carefully unfolded it and with a swift movement, he draped it over his shoulders and just stood here.

 

Warm, his brain supplied. Safe, the Soldier murmured, his anger disappearing quicker than ever. He threw an image at Barnes. 

 

_ The workshop, neon glowing projections, schematics of some kind of circuitry, one with a life-size armor in half assembly, music in the background and Tony in the back of the room, standing in front of a small forge, carefully hammering a glowing piece of metal, his skin bathed in fire light and sweat. Warm… Warm like the Sun itself. _

 

Barnes walked to the farthest corner from the door and folded himself onto the floor, making the comforter into a cocoon. He slowly closed his eyes, concentrating on the warmth around him and the softness against his skin.

 

They were safe and in the Compound, where no one wanted them to be a long dead person. They could be James and Soldier, they could have tea with Bruce, watch cartoons with the Parker kid when he visited, they could listen Rhodes grumbling about the whole political mess with the Accords and they had Tony and his brilliance. 

 

Tony and his slowly relaxing shoulders around them, his endless chatter about science, which they could derail with offerings of food and coffee. The Soldier hummed, promising him to keep all of this, no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this makes any sense? Because it's not exactly what I wanted to write, but feels happened ~~and I had a not so great week~~.


	5. little by little

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They should feel safe, he thought, not swapping places with the Soldier as soon as someone dropped a fork. It wasn’t as funny as it sounded, but the new granite countertop was the exact same shade of grey as the one before…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended music: [J- LOOP ON BLUE](https://drive.google.com/open?id=1cF4UYkSxQLbcmw8hf1VfH-dSRepeaXEt)
> 
> Also... You guys made my week with all these comments, so have another (short) chapter!! <3

Tony was so fuckin tired of everything. It started with that call from Rogers from three weeks ago, continued with Barnes, the UN and the Accords revisit and today put the cherry on top of this shitshow with the SI Boards hissy fit. 

 

He listened them complaining about the still not-so-stellar stock market place, about the slow upgrades from Tony and why he couldn’t stay out of trouble, etc. Like he wanted the whole thing, which the media dubbed lovingly ‘Civil War’. Tony was sure as Hell, there was nothing civil about it. 

 

No civility about being lied to and discarded without a chance to solve anything. Rogers preached about plans, communication and honesty, yet he was the first to destroy everything they built. For the first few months, he blamed Barnes for all of this, for killing his mother, even Howard… But as he and Friday dug around the dumped HYDRA files, he couldn’t keep his anger. Afghanistan was almost like a vacation compared to what Barnes survived since he got to Pierce. Medical experiments, senseless torture disguised as disciplining and the Chair… God, that was the worst, especially the last one. Barnes scream still haunted Tony. 

 

So, the engineer sat down with half a bottle of scotch next to Rhodey’s bed and launched into a mumbled rant about this. Rhodey smacked him with a pillow after the fourth sip of drink, complaining about Tony not letting him sleep damn it! He was an injured man, for God’s sake Tones, they should do this in daylight while not stinking up his room with alcohol. 

 

Tony drowned all of his lingering resentment into designing a new arm for Barnes, which ‘accidentally’ got sent to T’Challa. How clumsy. This opened up a conversation between him and the young king, ending in Barnes moving to the Compound for treatment. Of course the legal shitstorm took a few weeks to settle, but the man didn’t need to know that.

 

It was absurdly strange to watch how the BARF technology helped Barnes, along with the therapy. While Tony and the psychiatrist was almost hundred percent sure the old Bucky won’t be coming back, Barnes built himself up from the ground. Watching him fight the entity in his own head, rage and yell at it - him - at the beginning was almost as bad, as the videos from HYDRA. But it changed steadily, until  _ it _ became  _ him _ , and Dr. González said, it was the best they could hope for.

 

Of course, something had to happen, because they didn’t deserve nice things, like the fragile friendship he and Barnes started to develop. Even the Soldier seemed to like Tony, which was a really fuckin weird thing, but he didn’t complain if it made the guy happy or at least content. 

 

Then came along Rogers and his call. It made Barnes into a jumpy, silent man. Again. He hoped they left the  _ haunting the Compound in silence _ shtick in the past, but apparently not. James was tense and easily startled, making the Soldier a more frequent visitor. 

 

Watching them patrolling the place hurt something behind Tony’s battered ribcage. They should feel safe, he thought, not swapping places with the Soldier as soon as someone dropped a fork. It wasn’t as funny as it sounded, but the new granite countertop was the exact same shade of grey as the one before…

 

Tony tiredly rubbed his eyes, itching with fatigue, the usual neon blue of the holograms hurting them. It was no surprise, in the last two week of his life he seen and read more paperwork than ever. Because of course, the UN wanted to speed up the Accord’s process. It made a bad publicity, to have some of their heroes in the run.

 

The engineer snorted at the thought. Yeah, the poor sods, having to suffer in the harsh environment of Wakanda and its royal palace. What a cruelty. 

 

Tony stood from the workbench, where he spread all his papers.

 

“Friday, save and close everything. I cannot read another line without wanting to scratch my own eyes out.”

 

“Yes, Boss.” the windows disappeared in a blink.

 

He dragged his tired body out of the workshop. Maybe he should find James and convince the man - or even the Soldier - to make him a batch of muffins. They both needed some distraction and Barnes needed some practice not overbaking the muffins.

 

Yeah, it was a good plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Dr. González](http://www.emdr2016.eu/spreker/15783) (because you can be sure Tony will do everything he can to help Barnes, even getting doctors from the other side of the Atlantic)


	6. grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "At the start of the Avengers, Tony was sure he would die happy by Natasha’s thighs. Now, now he wasn’t sure. James had the body of a wet dream, yet Tony’s eyes mostly strayed to his shoulders and his legs. Maybe it was the murder strut that was performed by mostly the Soldier, rarely James when they stalked around the Compound."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended music: [Five Finger Death Punch - Wrecking Ball](https://drive.google.com/open?id=1rif8t5-3ZCDdlZE2RjAvmeSyA4ZGipJx) (is what Bucky listens)
> 
>  
> 
> Originally I wanted write something about James being badass in training, but got sidetracked. 8D

Friday warned him about the gym being occupied but he expected Rhodey or Bruce in there… Not Barnes, who was on the second punching bag, judging by the remains of the one in the corner. Tony just stopped at the door, not bothering with a greeting because he was sure the music was too loud for that and James inhumanly sharp instincts already told him he had company.

 

Yet, the man didn’t bother stopping. Fists and kicks rained onto the bag, almost in sync with the rhythm of the music, which was unfamiliar to Tony, but if he was honest, it was interesting. Heavy on guitars and drum, the song pounded on repeat and James just moved with it.

 

It was fascinating to watch. His fighting style was the opposite of Romanov’s, who didn’t have the muscle mass or Rogers’ boxing sessions. He was raw power, fueled by anger. His hair was tied into a short ponytail, which started to slip, letting the brown locks stick to his sweaty skin. Tony could see from his vantage point as he sang along - more like snarled along - with the singer, his punches coming harder than before.

 

The black tank top let his shoulders and the seam of his metal arm free, making it strangely hypnotic as the stronger punches moved the scar tissue around it. Tony’s eyes slid slowly lower, down the broad back, the trim waist, to the grey sweatpants clad ass and stopped at the thighs.

 

At the start of the Avengers, Tony was sure he would die happy by Natasha’s thighs. Now, now he wasn’t sure. James had the body of a wet dream, yet Tony’s eyes mostly strayed to his shoulders and his legs. Maybe it was the murder strut that was performed by mostly the Soldier, rarely James when they stalked around the Compound.

 

Now those thighs were clad in clingy grey sweatpants, and while Tony had no idea where they come from, he knew from ‘experience’ - he was a hot blooded man with Internet access, thank you - they could show off a lot of thing, if they were snug enough around the crotch…

 

Tony swallowed a little and turned his head away, crossing his arms in front of his chest, while mentally berating himself for his thoughts. _For Tesla’s sake Stark, DO NOT drool around the man, he has enough problem without you being a creep._ He didn’t notice as the sound of punches stopped or the approaching footsteps.

 

“Do you like what you see?” James voice asked, little scratchy and out of breath, startling Tony. As he looked up, James was standing in front of him. Chest heaving a little, skin shining lightly from sweat, the line of his body still tense, poised for fight. The tank top molded to his muscles, showing off everything. Tony didn’t dare to glance down.

 

“Just wanted to use the treadmill.” he tried for nonchalance. “But seeing the state of that punching bag, I reconsidered it. I’m just gonna leave you to it.” Tony turned to leave.

 

“Wanna spar?” James asked, amusement making  his voice lighter.

 

Tony turned to look back at him, eyebrow arched.

 

“Do you really think that’s a good idea? After Siberia, do you really want to go there?” Tony asked, and was sure some of his disbelief showed on his face, because James winced a little.

 

“Didn’t think about that, sorry. The Soldier gave the idea to help you with a little hand-to-hand training. While we know, you fight in the armor, it would make us feel a bit better to know, you can handle yourself against stronger or faster enemies.” James explained.

 

Tony blinked at him - or maybe them, he should talk about that with James, the Soldier _and_ Dr. González - then shrugged.

 

“Why not, but only once a week. I have very little free time and I’m just a squishy human compared to you, need time to nurse my bruises and ego. We can start next week, Thursday? In theory, I will have time.” A trial run couldn’t hurt - much - and maybe it was time get over his hang up about fighting. Yeah, Siberia wasn’t fun...

 

“Okay.” James grinned at him. Sweet Tesla...

 

Tony mumbled something about punching bags and time then beat a hasty retreat. Of course his eyes couldn’t behave and he stole a glance of James once more, before closing the gym door. Yeah, those sweatpants were just as show off as the ones on the Net, he saw. Now he needed a fuckin cold shower.


	7. my armor will be black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re gonna swap places with the Soldier. I need you to show every last scrap of information and video piece you’ve got from the last mission. After that, I ask you to answer every question he will ask. I’m sure there will be a lot of which neither of us has the clearance, but we want to bring back Tony. No matter the price, _no matter the lives_.” the Soldier echoes the last sentence and with that James steps back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [THIS](http://lienwyn.tumblr.com/post/162947507876/i-usually-draw-very-fluffy-things-but-every-once) amazing artwork of Lienwyn/Amethystina.
> 
> Recommended music: [Micahel Wandmacher - Let The Games Begin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ov4bj6EVtn0)
> 
> Title from this genius of a prompt: **"I will not be your knight in shining armor. My armor will be black with the blood of your enemies. That is a promise.”**

It starts with a routine mission for the Avengers - or at least the few who can call themselves Avengers - and ends with Stark getting kidnapped and Rhodes simmering with fury.

 

Barnes and the Soldier, who pushed closer to the surface, watch Rhodes arguing with the Accords committee about extending the search for Stark, about having a little more help. But he gets shot down every time. Banner left the room after the first bout of yelling, his eyes flashing nuclear green as he closed the door. The strange being who appeared just after Rhodes got back without Tony, is silently observing the whole circus. He - it? - makes the Soldier a little at unease.

 

After almost two hours of debating and swearing - mostly Rhodes - the committee declines to extend the search and the video call goes dark. The Colonel stands rooted to the spot for a heartbeat, then he turns and marches out of the common room, anger and tension making his gait a little uneven. The door closes with a slam, making James jump a little.

 

The Soldier hums at him, no need to be jumpy, but it doesn’t help. Tony is missing for 48 hours and the ones in charge want to give up. He’s almost sure Rhodes is planning something, but he doesn’t have the information where to search. James takes a deep breath and stands from the armchair, where he likes to read sometimes and heads for the door.

 

His hand is on the doorknob when the being speaks.

 

“Do you need help Mr. Barnes?” his voice is unfamiliar, but the accent brings a flash, a brown haired woman with lips painted like blood...

 

“No, thank you.” he mutters and leaves as quickly as possible.

 

James heads to the workshop. He has a plan, just needs _more_ information.

 

The workshop’s door slides open without a sound and Friday greets him, while she shushes the bots in the corner. Barnes heart twinges a little how they perked up, hoping for Tony, but only got him. He stops at the nearest empty workbench and hops onto.

 

“Friday, I need your help.” he speaks, his voice surprisingly steady.

 

“Whatever you need.” she answers and James could swear, she is as determined as he is.

 

“We’re gonna swap places with the Soldier. I need you to show every last scrap of information and video piece you’ve got from the last mission. After that, I ask you to answer _every_ question he will ask. I’m sure there will be a lot of which neither of us has the clearance, but we want to bring back Tony. No matter the price, _no matter the lives._ ” the Soldier echoes the last sentence and with that James steps back.

 

* * *

 

The Soldier slips into the compound undetected, silently killing the guards he finds. He needs to infiltrate this shithole, because it’s a fuckin’ _rescue_ mission. James hums in the back of his mind, warning him about getting distracted.  
He gets ignored, the bloodlust and the joy of getting revenge sings much louder in his frozen veins. Finally, finally! Yes, HYDRA made the perfect weapon but never accounted for it - him - turning against them. No trigger words can stop him now.

 

The sneaking doesn’t lasts as he runs into a HYDRA goon, who starts shooting instead of freezing like his comrades and that’s sure kicks the bunker into alert. The Soldier grins behind the black mask as he cuts through the whole fucking building, cleaning room after room.

 

In a suspiciously shabby lab room, he stops in his tracks, his eyes going wide. On a metal table there is the arc reactor, its eerie blue light glinting off of a lot of scientific equipment.

No… It can’t be…

 

He feels James shock like doused with liquid nitrogen, the occasional comments from him gets swallowed by _fear_. He grabs the reactor with his right hand, careful with the pressure and strides out of the room. He quickly turns a few corners, dodges a hail of bullets at the entrance of the prison level and continues on after shooting the incompetent morons. Barnes is still silent, which makes him angrier by the second.

 

They hurt Stark - and just that is a death sentence to HYDRA - and now they hurt Barnes by proxy… He kicks the first locked cell door and finds Stark - Tony, Barnes whispers in his head, finally… The man is on the cold concrete floor, deathly pale but his chest is still moving, he is still alive.

 

The Soldier practically runs over and collapses to the ground. Carefully, he shifts the reactor into his left hand and for a heartbeat, he hesitates. In theory, he knows what to do, how to insert the reactor into Stark’s chest, but… He has no right to do it, he is here for the destruction and for killing HYDRA. He drags back Barnes to the surface, leaving him dealing with Stark and the tears on their face.

 

He watches from the dark safety of Barnes’ mind as he scrambles to save the man’s life, taking care of the arc reactor and cradles Stark’s body closer to them, whispering reassurance through his tears. The other man’s eyes slowly flutter open and with a painful sounding sigh he turns his head, burying his face into the bloody body armor.

 

“I knew you guys will come.” he murmurs. The Soldier hums in agreement as Barnes stutters out a promise, that they’ll always come for Tony.


	8. the price of your story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He turned around and buried his face into the soft back of the couch. Just one week. He only needed to survive one week. After that he would move back to the Tower - Stark, thank you very much - and leave the compound, its inhabitants in the hands of the Committee."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended music: [SID - Izon no Niwa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8aGJCB0xCqM)
> 
>  
> 
> Until this chapter, I just threw small pebbles of angst into this story... Now, I threw half of the Carpathians in. 8D Let's see the waves...

Tony wasn’t sure what was the worst: the still healing bruises and cuts he got, the dull pain in his ribcage or the silence. With a heavy sigh, he got up from the old couch, shushing DUM-E when the bot started fussing and walked back to the workbench where he left all his papers.

 

It was finished. He fine-combed the whole forest worth of document, then sent it to two separate group of jurists, then fine-combed the results along with UN lawyers and the Committee members. The ink on the last page just dried, when he signed it an hour ago.

 

Friday sent the digital version to T’Challa, with a note to pass it around. Pretending to not know where the others were was in vain now. If they signed, they could come home and clear up the whole ‘Civil War’ debacle, they could be reinstated as Avengers, they could live in the Compound again…

 

Tony stepped back with a shudder, pulling the ragged blanket around his shoulder, ignoring the tremble in his left hand. The last few steps were the hardest. He needed to orchestrate the whole media shitshow, smile and greet them like nothing wrong happened, because they needed to present an united front for the public. It was a major condition from the UN, no more infighting and hissy fits with destruction. And one of the most bitter pill to swallow.

 

The other one was Barnes.

 

In the last week and half the man ignored him, sometimes left the room when Tony stepped in. If he was honest, it hurt. He knew he wasn’t a supersoldier or a spy with nine lives, but being dismissed like this after a kidnapping and some torture wasn’t the best feeling. Rhodey explained it, that Barnes left on an unsanctioned rescue, after he heard the search and rescue being cancelled.

 

Why help him, if he didn’t want to interact with Tony at all? Was he that horrible to live with? Why talk to him, trying to befriend him, then forget it? Was it a play? Maybe Barnes thought it would make Tony more helpful… He got treatment, had a roof to sleep under, food and place to exercise. He needed Tony to bring St-Rogers home. With the Accords revisit finished, he didn’t need Tony anymore.

 

The engineer shuffled back to the couch and sat down. He was so fucking tired. His head hurt, his chest hurt, couldn’t lay down comfortably because of the rainbow colored bruises all over his body. He thought about calling Rhodey, but the Colonel was way too busy and if he got wind of Barnes little play… Tony hated yelling and argument, the last thing he needed on his exhausted nerves.

 

He turned around and buried his face into the soft back of the couch. Just one week. He only needed to survive one week. After that he would move back to the Tower - Stark, thank you very much - and leave the compound, its inhabitants in the hands of the Committee. Of course in emergency situations he would come, but no power on Earth could make him to live with _them_ again. Maybe Bruce would come with him, the Tower had even better labs for the man… Just the two of them, Friday and the bots. So peaceful. So silent…

 

* * *

 

DUM-E beeped and inquiry at him, from the crate.

 

“He would like to know how long the trip will last, Boss.” Friday translated.

 

“Half an hour. But you asked this, you sad pile of code and scrap metal, ten minutes ago. Ask it one more time and you’ll find yourself occupying a blender.” Tony growled at the bot as he tightened a screw on the crate.

 

His mood did a swan dive in the last seven days, going even worse in the last 24 hours. The Avengers were back on US soil, had a beautiful, tearjerker ‘welcome-home’ press conference and back at the Compound all the masks were off. Rogers ignored him at first as soon as he caught a glimpse of Barnes, then got into an argument with Dr. González about therapy for his best friend, _then_ jumped down Tony’s throat when he told him to stop arguing with a professional. Barton’s and the witch’s disdain didn’t even register until they started poking at Rhodey and his injury. He just opened his mouth to rip them a new one, when Rogers barked at him to stop antagonizing the team.

 

Bruce  - the saint he is - just grabbed Tony’s arm and dragged him out of the common room, talking something about quasiparticles, ignoring the neon green flecks in his own eyes. In the workshop he let Tony swear and rant while they packed, he made them a pot of tea, magicked a pack of biscuits out of nowhere - honestly, why he stashed sweets in Tony’s place without telling him. By the time there was nothing but crumbs and empty cups on the cleanest workbench, Tony calmed down. He texted Rhodey, giving a heads up about the ‘new’ occupants and the general mood of the Compound. He only got back a photo of Rhodey’s unimpressed face. Good.

  


He just finished boxing up the last crate of tools when Friday announced a visitor.

 

“Boss, Mr. Barnes is here.” Tony put down the worn work gloves and turned to the blackened glass wall.

 

“What does he wants?” Tony asked.

 

“He would like to speak with you.” Friday’s voice echoed the unease Tony felt.

 

“Tough shit, I’m busy.” with that Tony turned back to drag the box to the others.  


* * *

  
James stood in front of the black glass door, the packed blue lunchbox in his hands. He didn’t know what he expected, but he knew he deserved the dismissal. He carefully put the box down and turned to leave. He would try tomorrow, because he had to apologize and after everything, Tony deserved the effort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not forget, it'll be a happy end. It'll be WinterIron, we're just taking the scenic route through Hell and Angst.


	9. a memory like you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tony closed the video feed with a small, sad smile on his face. He just watched the Winter Soldier to fall asleep during the third old ‘Trek episode. He made baffled questions during the first one, which Friday answered with the long-suffering patience of an AI made by Tony Stark."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really have recommended music to go with this chapter. I started writing this while blasted Five Finger Death Punch's "Let This Go"/"Here To Die". But they really don't fit the end of the chapter... 
> 
> It should have been longer but, well... The Soldier happened to think otherwise.

Anger drummed behind the Soldier’s temple, making him even more tense. He should have prevented this somehow. Yes, he had the social skills of a rabid badger, but apparently that was more than what Barnes possessed. On top of that idiot, they had a Hydra operative in the Compound, who had the approval - what the everloving Hell… - of the Captain. The Soldier understood Tony’s decision to abandon ship. He wanted to leave, but they had nowhere to go and the last thing they needed was another round of chase with Rogers.

 

Now, he was stuck in the Compound with the Captain, the Spiderling, Wilson, Agent Barton, the thief and the Hydra plant. He was sure she was a plant, because no one in their right mind would offer themselves to Hydra to experiment on. Rogers was protective of the woman, almost as much as of Barnes. James tried to bring the thing up in the few stilted conversation they had with the man, but it quickly got derailed into a  _ “you’re a saint Bucky; you’re innocent Bucky” _ rant.

 

James gave up after the fourth one. The Soldier tried to have that conversation but  _ that _ almost devolved into a fight, as soon as Rogers noticed it’s not James he’s talking to. That was embarrassingly long 10 minutes to get some recognition.

 

The Soldier felt the absence of the Механик in that moment, because he only needed a few words or a longer glance to know. Now he only had the long-lost childhood best friend of Barnes along with a pack of idiots and traitors and they felt fucking alone. Dr. Banner was working on moving his lab across New York, Rhodes ignored his existence since Tony moved out. Wait, he ignored  _ James  _ existence. A huge difference, because the few times he run into the man during a night patrol he got a greeting and a nod, which was more than the cold shoulder his host got.

 

He stopped his pacing in front of the workshop’s door. For a moment he just listened, but when the distant footsteps picked up again - Rogers - he heaved a sigh and turned his head to look into the left corner of the ceiling.

 

“AI Friday?” he asked softly.

 

“Yes?” her voice was barely audible, he was sure she knew what he wanted.

 

“Can I enter the workshop?” the following heartbeat seemed agonizingly long.

 

“In the absence of Boss, no one can gain entry. The passcode of James Barnes got revoked a week ago.” Barnes shuddered deep in his head, swamping him with guilt. Good. If he suffered, Barnes should too. “”But,” Friday continued, “ _ you _ never had an access code. In case of emergency and counting on Colonel Rhodes busy schedule it would be a benefit to have someone with access.” ignoring Barnes indignant squawking, the Soldier nodded.

 

“That would be acceptable.”

 

“Please put your right hand on the green lit panel, please.” the Soldier did as instructed. The light flashed to blue then back to green.

 

“Access granted.” Friday announced, just in time to Rogers round the corner.

 

“Hey, Bucky! What-” the Soldier didn’t wait for him to finish, he stepped inside the workshop as the dark glass door slid closed behind him. His shoulders slumped a little with relief and he could feel Barnes settling a little.  _ What a good friend, not wanting to talk the man who kicked up a whole shitstorm for him. _ Barnes froze in silence for a moment in his head, then sent a bolt of anger at him. He almost lashed out at him, but then he remembered the last time they had this ‘argument’. It cost Tony a new coffee table.

He heaved a sigh as Barnes got a taste of the memory and settled with a bitter grumble.

 

The Soldier looked around the empty workshop. Gone were the almost constant clutter, the lights and the warmth of the small forge. No more neon blue projections, pieces of armor on the workbenches. 

 

“AI Friday, can I have something to read or watch? What the Механик likes to watch?” he asked as he sat down on the ragged couch in the back of the workshop.  
  


* * *

 

Tony closed the video feed with a small, sad smile on his face. He just watched the Winter Soldier to fall asleep during the third old ‘Trek episode. He made baffled questions during the first one, which Friday answered with the long-suffering patience of an AI made by Tony Stark.

 

Of course he got the notification of an entry into the workshop. While Friday gave access without his permission, he understood her decision. Seeing the Soldier’s relief when the door closed warmed his heart just a minuscule, seeing him relaxed and calm while camping on the old couch made him smile. It still hurt, seeing Barnes face, but he could tell who was in charge and he never thanked the Soldier for the rescue. 

 

He turned back to the blueprint of an industrial size water purifier, he had more important things to worry about than the strangers in the Compound... 


	10. Whisper on a scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Status report?” The man asked, one dark eyebrow quirked questioningly, dark brown eyes sweeping over its form.
> 
> “Slight disorientation, awaiting handler assignment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heey~ guys! I'm still alive! Had a few fuckin' bad and/or busy months, sorry for not updating.
> 
> I started this chapter somewhere in May and I have NO idea which storylines part should have been... 8D So have a new chapter. 
> 
> Recommended music: [Five Finger Death Punch - Blue on black](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=deedpMSLIHI)

The Asset woke abruptly, hands scrambling for weapons, finding none. It rolled off the disturbingly soft bed, into a crouch on the plush rug. Something is very wrong.  _ They _ never left the Asset in nice places without a reason, but  it was clothed and the body unharmed. Its eyes flitted from one corner to the other. The slowly brightening room was furnished, walls painted light grey, with huge windows on one side.

 

“Do you require assistance?” asked a female voice, strangely familiar but the only thing it associated with is  _ computer _ . Misidentifying handlers is not good, usually ended in reconditioning and punishment.

 

“No.” the Asset replied and stood up, stepping away from the bed. No blood on the sheets.

 

“You are needed in the lab. Follow the light on the ground.”

 

“Confirm.”

 

With that a blue line appeared on the ground, just before the door. The color brought pictures: glowing lines, deft hands, a man smiling… The Asset almost sprinted out of the room.  _ Must find the механик in the lab. _

 

The whole building was empty, no guards, no people in white coats, no handlers. It followed the blue line, almost hundred percent sure the механик would explain what happened. The механик  _ always _ helped it, even there was no gain in it for him. 

 

The Asset skidded to halt in front of a darkened glass door, which opened silently into the механик’s lab. The familiar mechanical parts, the seemingly messy workbenches and the blue glow made it lose some of the tension, hands releasing from the tight fists.

 

The механик was bent over one of the workbenches on the far left side of his domain, fiddling with something small, but his head snapped up as the Asset entered.

 

“Status report?” The man asked, one dark eyebrow quirked questioningly, dark brown eyes sweeping over its form.

 

“Slight disorientation, awaiting handler assignment.” 

 

“Assignment delayed, report to механик for weapon testing.” The familiar female voice interrupted, explaining the urge to find the lab.

 

“The Asset reports for weapon testing.” It snapped into parade rest - what a strange phrase to know… -, waiting for orders.

 

The механик just blinked for a few moments then with a sigh he put the small tool down.

 

“I need to finish this first. But okay, go to the couch to your right and lie down. Sleep until all systems are restored to maximum.” With that, the man turned back to the workbench intent to finish his work. The Asset could understand, incorrectly executed orders always got punished.

 

The couch was old and in places smeared with something dark, but it made no difference for it. As orders go, it wasn’t a painful or an uncomfortable one, so the Asset laid down and closed its eyes…

* * *

  
  


Tony wasn’t sure how long he sat with his back to the Soldier, but when Friday finally popped up a little notification next to his coffee mug about the man sleeping, he heaved a heavy sigh. He only wanted to spend a night working on War Machine’s small gatling gun, then go back to the Tower, when this happened. He almost got a heart attack when Friday announced the Soldier was enroute to the lab.

 

Tony was sure not even the Soldier wanted to see him, maybe it was the habit of finding peace in the empty workshop… But the undeniable relief on the man’s face when he found Tony here- maybe it was  _ just _ Barnes. Friday whispered something about a dissociation episode and the Soldier confirmed it. While it wasn’t really okay with Tony, he could help. Hell, he was even better choice than Rogers or God forbid, Maximoff. 

 

He carefully got up from the stool and gathered a few things to bring back to the Tower. While seemingly the Soldier was okay with Tony, Barnes was the last person he wanted to see face-to-face again. Well, it wasn’t forever because he was sure Rogers would recruit his pal to the Avengers and they would meet on the field eventually… But he just needed time to fight down the hurt, that was all.

* * *

  
  


James woke slowly. His back felt cold and the bed was strangely short… As his eyes opened, he almost fell to the floor. This was NOT his room, that was sure. He scrambled off the couch, eyes flitting place to place, looking for Tony in the workshop, but he was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Friday? What the fuck happened?  Where is Tony? Is he okay? Why am I in the workshop?” 

 

“Boss is at home and fine. You and the Soldier had an episode, got to the workshop in search for a handler. Now, I would like to ask you to vacate the workshop.” Friday’s voice wasn’t friendlier than the last weeks. No shit, if they scared Tony with a murderbot impression. The Soldier just murmured something incomprehensible in the back of his head, but no explanation. Great. Why that shithead access to this place while he didn’t, was a mystery to him. 

 

He left the workshop feeling disoriented and alone. 

 

The small piece of drafting paper with a messy scrawl on it was left crumpled on the couch, wedged between the cushions, where James head was.

 

_ Hey Snowflake. Take care of you guys. -T _


End file.
